OVER THE RED LINE TWO;THE MEETING:PART 1
I longed to put a face to the voice that bore only beautiful words, but my thought and my conscience rang warning bells – another man’s wife – scaring me to the core. Knowing what could happen if we got complacent with our audacious passion, I had to decline her tempting request to visit since her husband had taken up a consulting job that would require that he shuttled between where they reside and his place of work.
However, when the heart is set on achieving something, it becomes a moving locomotive with a failed brake system, there is no stopping it.
I embarked on the journey.
I was going to surprise her, so I did not inform her. I wanted my arrival to feel like a storm landing on a community without warning signs.
All through the journey, I imagined our meeting and hoped it would end up becoming the reality of the mental picture and flash video I had been having.
I had opted to stay at my friend’s personal house to mitigate the risk of someone seeing her entering a hotel. The house, a secluded four-bedroom duplex, is a considerable distance from where she lives. My friend had travelled to Canada to spend summer with his family and had instructed his house security to grant me access.
Settled in, I dialled her number severally but couldn’t get through; poor reception, I guess. I waited for a while, then sent a text.
She did not respond.
That got me worried. Worried, tired from the trip, and bored, I slept off. When I awoke, I had received a message from her.
“Hi, you claim to be unable to do without me,” she had written, “yet you refused to see me even after I told you my husband travelled and pleaded like my life was dependent on it. I am not happy with you and not in the mood
Sensing she was drowning in frustration, I replied the message to save her. “I understand the sentiment, but please try to see through my words and feel with your heart when in doubt, for casting what is transparently pure, beautifully felt and sacred as our love, is like denying the existence of morning, afternoon and night. I would be with you right now if I could.”
Saved by my message, the healing remedy that took her to a better place, she apologised for the aggression and asked how I was doing.
“I am fine, but I would feel better when we meet,” I replied.
She wrote, “well, unfortunately, you have decided to not feel better since you’ve refused to honour my invitation.”
“Guess what?” I responded.
“I don’t have the strength to play the guessing game as I am burdened by your refusal to see me,” she wrote.
I sent her a shocker. I told her that I had come to take her burden away, to make her feel alive again and that her days of living hopeful, holding on to imaginations were over.
“I will lock you in a world you never knew existed. I am in town.”
Surprised, she replied, “are you joking? When did you arrive? Where are you?”
“Today, and I am at my friend’s house – 5A Jefferson drive.”
I told her my friend had travelled and that I was all alone. She put a call through to me, informing me that she would arrive at 8 pm. She mentioned that she would need to confirm that her husband had no intention of giving her a surprise gift by way of an unexpected visit. The call was brief and her reason for coming late well understood.
I had informed the security that I was expecting a visitor, so a few minutes past 8 pm, she was ushered in. She came with heat, not of fire or light, but from the contact of our body as we embraced. Her smile as she entered through the door, illuminated the moment; without doubt, she filled my existence. She was more beautiful in person, and there was no dull moment. We discussed everything except her marriage while I took her hands, pulling her gently as she collapsed into my arms. I stared into her electrifying eyes, kissed her neck, my hands roaming all over seeking where would make her gasp for breath until a point of almost losing consciousness from pleasure. At this point, nothing mattered, religion and cultural beliefs were not strong enough obstacles to sway us.
The world froze.
We were all alone, our hearts dictated where we found the deepest parts of each other, weaving magic that touched the soul; our love was unfettered, and only our hearts could aspire to fill the desires of our souls. This coupling was compelling, intense and passionate without regrets. We were over the red line with our treacherous act – not just against her husband, but also against culture and religion; yet, we continued to indulge in this priceless moment of our lives. The guilt we envisaged evaporated, giving way to contentment, I guess because our passionate expression generated so much heat.
She told me she preferred me, and at that moment, she was in a confused state of mind, for I had made her realise how ignorant she was about real and passionate love.
Unhappy to be leaving, when she desired to spend more time with me, she reluctantly drove home. She was laying in her bed when her husband called, their conversation lacked lustre. When he asked what was wrong, she attributed it to tiredness – he was unaware that his wife laid with various overwhelming emotions ruling her essence. She did not dwell on her actions or thought of the red line she had crossed, but for a fact, she knew her marriage would never be the same again. This love, a ray of magic emitted from the core of her soul, making her perceive life as renewed and a beautiful dream she would not want to wake from. Although her husband loves her and she wouldn’t want him to get hurt, she could see the inevitable end, with much collateral damage. Yet, she so strongly wished to wake up in the morning with a new reality of expressing her passion freely with her Adonis, as she calls me, Uche, without shielding it in secrecy.